Deadbeat
by Just A Little Birdy
Summary: Upper Middle Bogan fic. New town, new start. Or so they say. Izzy doesn't expect much, but then again, she's never met anyone quite like Shawn Wheeler before. This could be the place where everything changes. For the better…and for the worse.
1. New Beginnings

Disclaimer: I only own Izzy.

"I'm not going to school here."

"Get out."

"I'm not going."

"Well I can't afford any of those fancy private schools, so you'll have to."

"Or I could just quit school."

Her mother sighed loudly, knuckles turning white on the steering wheel as she stared at her stubborn daughter in the mirror of the car. "Get out, Isabel, or so help me I'll come back there and throw you out."

Groaning, Izzy shoved the door open and climbed out, making sure to slam it behind her. She didn't turn to watch her mother drive away at twice the speed limit, fixing her eyes instead on the dump that someone had seen fit to call a school. There were kids everywhere, playing one sport or another or just loitering as they talked to friends. More were still coming, passing by her without giving her a second glance, eager to get to their own before-school activities.

She should probably go in. Of course, she could take off and find some park or quiet street to hang around in until it was safe to go home, but her mother would have her head for it, after all the arguing and complaining she'd already done that morning. Best not to push her buttons any further. Shouldering her bag, Izzy followed a large group into the school grounds, turning left towards the front office. Surely they'd know what she was supposed to be doing here.

The lady behind the desk looked up from the screen of an out-of-date computer and smiled as she walked in. "What can I do for you?" she asked pleasantly, leaving her work for a moment.

"My name's Isabel Walker," Izzy replied, shrugging her bag into a more comfortable position. "It's my first day here, and I was wondering if I could get a timetable or a map or something."

"Oh, so you're the new student!" the receptionist enthused, tapping on her keyboard. "Welcome!" One final tap, and then she stood and clicked and wobbled her way across the room in too-high heels to where a printer was noisily spitting out a copy of a timetable. Snatching it up, the woman crossed the room again in the same cringe-worthy fashion, and handed over the timetable and a map of the campus. "Here you go. Just come back here if you have any trouble finding your classes and I'll rustle up someone to help you."

"Thankyou." Izzy forced a tight smile, took the papers, and bolted out of the room and into the thick spring air. It was barely October, but already the temperature was soaring into summer-like heat every other day, making it next to impossible to know what each day was going to be like. Today was going to be a hot one, it would seem. Suddenly she wasn't so sour about spending the day stuck in a classroom. With that in mind she stopped in the shade outside the office and glanced at her timetable - her first class was halfway across the campus apparently, hidden somewhere in the maze of buildings before her.

Determined not to get lost or have to ask that woman for help again, she set off, ignoring any curious eyes that happened to turn her way as she did. The classroom wasn't as hard to find as she had thought it would be, appearing in front of her within five minutes of her wandering. Most of the class was already there, standing around or sitting on top of tables, bags slung on seats to indicate ownership. The teacher looked up as she came in, frowning when he didn't recognise her. She gave him her name and he waved her on in, welcoming her to the school. Izzy grit her teeth and ignored the empty words, turning her attention instead to finding a seat that wasn't taken by some douchebag she had yet to meet. She was good at this sort of thing, at finding a place to hide - it was easy to spot an idiot. There was a whole group of them over in one of the back corners now. Disgusted, she turned away from that side of the room, seeking a seat well away from them. There was only one chair empty on that side of the room, next to some kid with overgrown hair and a sour look on his face.

Resigned to her fate, she crossed the room and dropped into the chair, throwing her bag on the floor at her feet. In the corner of her eye, she saw the boy looking at her like he was questioning her sanity or something. "Uh...what are you doing?" he asked.

"Sitting," she replied with a shrug.

"There are plenty of seats over there." He looked pointedly across the room to where the idiots were sitting, surrounded by a ring of empty seats.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" she asked. "I am not sitting near those douchebags."

"Great," he said sarcastically, and that was the end of it.

They sat through the class without speaking another word to each other, the boy disappearing into the crowd as soon as it ended. There was a short break between classes, and Izzy ended up wandering the school grounds trying not to look too much like a loser. People ignored her for the most part. She wasn't sure how to feel about that; she didn't want friends or anything and couldn't give a shit about any of the kids she passed, but at the same time, it would be nice to have a little recognition sometimes, a sign that she wasn't totally invisible. A total of three people had talked to her in the two or three hours she'd been here, and none of them because they wanted to.

This place was supposed to be a fresh start. Right now, it felt like the same old life.

Her next class was short, and most of the second row was empty, meaning she could sit seven or eight seats apart from the gossiping girls on the other end. Izzy hated those sorts of girls, and she was sure they were talking about her, judging but the not-so-secret looks they were giving her. She'd thought that would be the best lesson of the day, but she was more relieved to escape that class than she had been that morning, sitting awkwardly next to a boy she didn't know for an hour and a half.

Speaking of hour and a half lessons, it was a double maths period that came next. The first thing she noticed when she walked into the classroom was the boy she had sat next to that morning. Again, he was sitting in the emptiest part of the room, though this time a pudgy boy with a shock of red hair sat next to him. With few other options, she slumped down into a seat behind them, figuring that she could at least use them as a screen to keep the teacher's eyes from her.

It took less than two minutes for the dark-haired one to turn around, hanging off the back of his chair. "Are you stalking me or something?" he asked. "That's kind of creepy, you know."

"Just because we have the same classes, doesn't mean I'm stalking you."

"Why do you keep sitting near me then?"

Izzy shrugged. "Why do you sit near all the free seats? What is this, 20 questions?"

"More like two."

"Whatever."

"Who are you anyway?" he asked after a beat, a total shit-eating grin on his face.

"Are you trying to make it to 20?" she threw back.

"How is three close to twenty?" he replied. "You should move up the front if your maths is that bad."

"Four." She eyed him for a moment, sizing him up. Tall and thin, but tough-looking. He was from a rough background, she'd bet; he had that look about him. "Isabel," she blurted out suddenly. "Or Izzy or whatever stupid nickname you want."

"No one said anything about nicknames," he pointed out bluntly, to which Izzy shrugged. "I'm Shawn, and this is Nuts." He jerked a finger at the silent boy beside him, and she cast a glance that way.

"That sounds like a pretty stupid nickname to me," she said, baiting him.

"I've heard worse," he returned coolly.

"I've heard better."

At the front of the room, the teacher raised his voice, calling them to attention. Reluctantly, Shawn turned away, back towards the front, and Izzy slouched in her seat, looking for something that could distract her from the monotony of algebra. She didn't even understand half the stuff the teacher was going on about anyway – she'd moved schools so many times that she always missed bits, and of course none of them ever did things in the same order. This school was no exception.

The only upside to the long maths lesson was its conclusion, when she could finally get out of the stuffy classroom into an afternoon that was beginning to resemble an oven, but was fresh at least. This time, she followed Shawn and Nuts through the maze of buildings, wondering how on earth she had managed to lose him earlier. Nuts would have been easily lost in the crowd, were it not for his hair, but Shawn was a head taller than a good percentage of the crowd and easy to spot. Once, the boys turned around and saw her following, but neither made any comment on it (she wasn't sure Nuts could talk even if he did have an objection) so she stuck with them all the way to a corner of shade, where the three slumped down with their backs to the wall, Izzy a comfortable distance from the boys who hadn't actually accepted her yet.

The others pulled out a sandwich each, but Izzy didn't even bother reaching for her bag, knowing there wasn't much but a bruised and unappetising green apple rolling around in there. She wouldn't eat that thing if it was the last piece of fruit on earth – she'd only brought it to get it out of the house and convince her parents that it was time to buy something fresher.

Instead of thinking about food that wasn't going to come, she turned her eyes out towards the courtyard before her, watching a few kids play basketball, a group of girls on the benches be silly and superficial. Others wandered here and there, indecisive about where they should settle (or maybe they just liked being baked alive by a vicious sun). It was just the same as any other school she'd been to – a bit run-down, full of kids from backgrounds ranging from average to downright rubbish. No one here had parents with a pay check large enough to pay for a fancy school with a huge success rate for its old students, and so they had to settle for this only half decent but affordable alternative.

"Hey."

The voice came from beside her, and when she turned she was faced with Shawn holding out half a sandwich. She hesitated in taking it, aware that it was all he had and it would be polite to turn it down, but then her stomach growled and made the decision for her, urging her to take it from him. "Thanks," she said quietly, biting into it. She wasn't sure what was on it – some kind of salad, she thought, but it was delicious and gone within minutes.

There was her sign, she realised suddenly. A sandwich was as good a sign as any – at least she didn't feel invisible anymore. In fact, she almost felt like smiling.

Two boys appeared from nowhere, sparing her a few curious glances and striking up a half-hearted conversation with Shawn and Nuts (who could talk just fine when he chose to, it turned out). It was her turn to pretend to be mute, becoming invisible again as she observed the conversation. Either it was too hot for the boys to be bothered with being friendly, or they weren't particularly good friends, she thought as she watched – there was a sort of nonchalance to the two newcomers, like they were only here because they had nowhere better to be or no one else to talk to. They were gone before she knew it, walking off again back the way they had come.

"They seem friendly," Izzy commented, tucking a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear and watching them leave.

Nuts grunted an unintelligible reply, which she ignored. "That's Tyler and Ollie," Shawn said, eyes also on the retreating pair. "They're junior dragsters."

"You're into drag racing?" She turned to him sharply, eyebrows raised and a grin threatening to split open her face.

"My family is. I prefer my dirt bike," Shawn replied with a shrug.

"He won the junior nationals," Nuts added, his first contribution to a conversation Izzy was involved in. She got the feeling that it was supposed to be a momentous occasion, getting the quiet boy to speak, but she ignored it, focusing on the things he was saying instead.

"Junior nats, huh? Sounds like you're pretty into drag racing."

"I was helping my pop prove a point."

"Sure, sure." A wicked grin cracked open across her face, letting him know she was joking. He didn't have any reply for her, and then a loud bell rang out across the courtyard, telling them it was time to get back to class. "What do you guys have next?" Izzy asked, standing up and dusting herself off.

"Free lesson. What about you?"

She wrinkled her nose. "English or something like that."

Shawn laughed at her, and even Nuts cracked a smile. "Yeah, you have fun with that," the taller one taunted her, shouldering his bag and heading for the school gates.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Anywhere but here," Shawn answered, waving goodbye without a hint of pity or remorse on his face. Defeated, she turned away towards what would doubtless be the most torturous class of the day, trapped inside listening to a teacher talk about something she could guarantee she wouldn't understand while Shawn and Nuts were out wandering the streets and enjoying themselves.

The lesson turned out worse than that. Her teacher, some old guy with a bald patch and a tie covered in Christmas trees despite the time of year, subscribed to the 'set seating' religion of the classroom, and found her possibly the worst spot in the entire room, between a gossipy girl who didn't stop whispering to the friend she had somehow managed to have seated beside her and a total nerd, who alternated between answering every question the teacher had and sending scything looks across Izzy to the talking girls, who didn't even seem to notice. Suddenly, staring at the back of Shawn's head through an hour and a half of maths didn't seem quite so torturous…or sitting next to him all morning without speaking.

On her way out the school gates, and all the way home, she was on the lookout for the boys she had spent lunch with but to no avail – they had disappeared from the neighbourhood (or just gone home, as kids were wont to do once school was finished). She took a long, circuitous route that stretched the walk out to three times its normal length despite the heat, hoping to come across them, but eventually she could avoid home no longer and trudged into the ramshackle street that was her new home address.


	2. Toeing The Line

**Chapter 2**

She lived in the fourth house on the right side of May Crescent, a no through road lined by houses that were crap when they were new. Most were light plasterboard affairs, the type you could put a foot or a fist through without even trying, their paint peeling and windows boarded up because the tenants couldn't afford (or be bothered getting) new glass. Faded or downright dead lawn sat in most of their front yards, wild half-hearted attempts at an actual garden in others. The house next to Izzy's actually had a thriving rosebush pressing its way through the front fence, threatening her with pale pink flowers and angry thorns. She avoided those carefully.

Her new home was no different to any other on the street, standing square and stout with a rusted iron fence and yellow lawn that crackled and snapped underfoot. The front door jammed, then creaked and scraped its way inwards, bottom corner dragging across the worn floorboards. She stepped straight into the lounge room, their old TV flashing commercials across the room thought the couches were unoccupied. Doors to the two bedrooms, kitchen and bathroom led off from the lounge; she headed straight for her own room, dumping her bag on the bed, and then to the kitchen to find something to eat.

Her mother was there, with what looked like sausages cooking on the stove. "Where've you been?" she asked as Izzy walked in, not even having to turn around to know who it was.

"School," Izzy answered, opening the fridge and scanning its contents.

Her mother was there in an instant, pushing her away from the meagre supply of food and pushing the door shut with her elbow. "School finished three hours ago Izzy."

"You made me walk home."

"It doesn't take you three hours to walk home." Her mother turned back to her sausages or whatever, turning around again to glare at Izzy as she went for the fridge again. "Get out of there. If you were hungry, you should have come home earlier."

"Well, how much longer until that's done?" Izzy asked, gesturing at the pan.

"Half an hour."

"It doesn't take half an hour to cook sausages."

"You keep this up and you won't be getting any at all."

Izzy threw her hands in the air. "Whatever. I don't want your stupid sausages anyway." Then, she stormed out, ignoring the furious shouts that followed her. Safely back in her room, she slammed the door behind her then stood still for a moment, listening. Her father had been out the back apparently; she could hear them talking in the kitchen. A strangled noise of frustration escaping her, she grabbed her bag, digging through it and pulling out the old, busted iPod that was probably the best thing she owned, hitting shuffle and turning the volume up to full, drowning out the house and her parents.

Furious, she stared at the ceiling for who knew how long, losing count after fifteen songs or so. When she finally sat up, it was dark outside, light from the house next door filtering through her window and illuminating her room in a weird sort of half-light. Music still blaring, she got up to close the curtains and turn on her own light, blinking at the sudden brightness. Only then did she pause the music, face screwing up in a frown when she heard people arguing. Within five seconds, she'd hit play again, drowning them out once more, and collapsed back onto her bed.

Sometimes, she wondered why they even bothered staying together. All they ever did was drink and argue and lose their jobs, with the occasional break from all of that to tell her off for breathing or whatever it was she was doing wrong. It was always the same – they picked out a new place to move to, secured a shitty job each and promised new starts. Within the first two days of moving in, they'd be back at each other's throats, within a few weeks one or both would lose their jobs and her teachers would start calling to ask why she was failing this class or that test. Eventually, one or more neighbours would complain about the constant yelling and disturbances, or some family's organisation would stick their nose into the Walker's business, and they'd move away and the whole cycle would start again.

She paused the music for a second again, but they were still yelling. Her ears were starting to hurt from the hours of loud rock music she had been listening to. She'd be deaf before she finished school if this kept on. She also needed some new music – it had been a while since anyone had let her filch songs off of them, and she'd heard everything she had so many times it was beginning to get boring (but it was still better than listening to her parents scream at each other for an hour).

Maybe she'd ask Shawn or Nuts for music. How well did you have to know someone before you could ask for stuff like that? It didn't seem like it would be a crime or anything. It wasn't like she was asking for money or something like that, kids shared music with each other all the time. Who knew how the music industry was still running, what with all the illegal downloads and music sharing that went on these days. Anyway, she couldn't see how it would be inappropriate to ask.

Why had she sat through school like it was torture again? School had by far been the best part of her day, even that final lesson when she'd been sat between the two most annoying people in the class. She'd give everything she had to go back now.

Sighing, she unlocked her iPod and set an alarm for the morning, as early as she'd dare to take a shower. Ignoring the grumbling and tight feeling of an empty stomach she stopped the music and pulled off her headphones, putting up with the yelling from the kitchen long enough to change into pyjamas and then went to bed, pulling her headphones back on. The shouting was dying down, so she could finally turn the music down, though she knew she wouldn't be awake long enough to fall asleep to pure silence. She'd long since learnt to fall asleep listening to music anyway, and so that was how she went that night, with an angry rock star screaming about his breakup in the background.

* * *

><p>Morning dawned cold and bright, and Izzy left the house before the sun had fully risen, a blue hoodie pulled on over her school dress in an effort to keep warm. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing, and the half-hour walk to school warmed her up plenty. Almost two hours early, she wandered into a deserted school and found a bench pulled up against one of the buildings that wasn't wet with morning dew and faced east, catching the wan morning sun. Her head rested against the brick wall of the building, eyes closing against the sunlight, and she sighed a deep breath of fresh morning air, revelling in the silence. She'd fallen asleep to rock music and woken to the loud chirping of some very stupid birds in the tree next door, and she hadn't heard proper silence in two days.<p>

A biting pain wrapped itself around her stomach, disturbing her peace and reminding her that she'd missed both tea and breakfast, _and_ forgotten to hunt around for a purse or wallet when she'd been looking for food in the kitchen, not that she expected either of her parents to have any money on them anyway. What's more, she'd found nothing she could take to school in the kitchen, not even a few pieces of bread to make a sandwich with (if she could even find anything to put on a sandwich). The only thing she had found to make it worth her while was her phone, shoved up in a cupboard behind an empty box of cereal. She'd retrieved it and put it on charge while she showered, knowing that whichever parent had taken it wouldn't even remember doing that, let alone where they put it.

Pulling out the phone, she glanced at the battery. It was saying 50% now, but she had no doubt that that was just a lie to make her feel better. She'd be lucky if it lasted until the end of the day, seeing as her battery couldn't hold more than a couple of hours' worth of charge if her life depended on it.

It was only in the last fifteen minutes before classes began that she saw Shawn walking into school and went over to meet him. "Hey," she greeted him, falling in beside him as he wound his way through the crowd.

"Hey," he replied, eyes on where he was going. It was only when he reached the same spot they had eaten lunch in yesterday that he stopped and looked at her, an easy smile already on his face.

"What?" she asked, immediately on the defensive when she saw him almost laughing at her.

"Your hair looks like a birds nest," he replied, sitting down. "You're going to get in so much trouble with it like that." She joined him on the ground, pulling the hairband out of her messy ponytail and letting her hair fall down around her face. It was still damp in places, but at least it hadn't taken on an unattractive bump where the band had been sitting yet.

"Better?" she asked, sweeping a few stray locks behind her ear and pulling a face.

"Yeah. They're still going to tell you off though."

"Whatever."

"You might want to take off your jumper before school starts too," he pointed out unhelpfully.

"Shut up." She gave his shoulder a hard shove, but she was grinning anyway. "Where's Nuts?"

"Probably skipping school or something."

"You too much of a teacher's pet to skip?"

"No." Shawn shrugged, unfazed. "I just don't feel like being grounded at the moment."

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, cutting off anything she was going to say further. She pulled it out to find the caller ID flashing her mother's name on the screen. Sighing, she answered, bringing the phone up to her ear. "Hi Mum," she said reluctantly, already prepared for the earful she was no doubt going to get.

"Isabel Walker, you had better be at school by now or-"

"God, calm down, I'm at school," she said, cutting through what was quickly becoming a rant.

"So you bloody well should be." The rant was inevitable, Izzy realised with a sigh, staring hard at a line of ants crossing the pavement in front of her. "And what was all that last week about you needing me to drive you to school if you're just going to walk anyway? I've made arrangements just so that I have the time to drop you off in the morning, which, by the way, have now cost me money since you've decided to go swanning off on your own anyway. Some warning at least would have been nice Izzy. We don't all have time to be wandering around town doing whatever we like, you know. And were you planning on telling us you were going to be leaving at sunrise?"

"I just felt like leaving early this morning-" Izzy tried to cut in but to no avail – the woman on the other end of the line was on a roll now, voice quickly rising to a shout.

"Oh, you just felt like it, did you? Well I hope you can get another ride to school then because I won't be sticking my neck out for you again if you're just going to be an ungrateful brat when I do." She paused for a heavy breath. Izzy stayed silent, brows furrowed in annoyance, squishing the ants one by one with a stick. "Are you planning to come home on time tonight? Or are you staying out to wander the streets and get into trouble?"

"I'm staying out," she said angrily, delivering a lethal blow to another ant.

"I thought as much. If the police come knocking at my door, I'm disowning you."

"I know." The line went dead, and she dropped the phone into her lap before she threw it across the courtyard. It sported enough scrapes and cracks and dents as it was.

"Trouble with your parents?" Shawn asked quietly from his seat next to her, observing the battlefield that was littered with ant bodies.

"How did you know," Izzy snapped, rolling her eyes.

"What'd she say?" he asked.

Izzy shrugged. "Not much."

"Sure." His answer was drawn out and sarcastic, making it all too clear that he wasn't buying it. "What happened to your phone screen?" he asked after a moment of silence, wisely choosing to change the topic.

"What didn't happen to it?" she sighed, running a finger over the cracks in the screen. "I think I dropped it, and then Mum threw it at a wall…three or four times…" She trailed off, shifting uncomfortably. "You should see my iPod screen. It's even worse."

Shawn was grinning again suddenly. "Give me ten bucks and I'll fix them both?"

Izzy stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "Dude," she said finally. "What makes you think I have ten bucks? I can't even afford lunch." Her stomach grumbled at the mention of food, but she ignored the persistent, gnawing hunger.

"You can owe me," Shawn said with a shrug, like it was no big deal. She stared at him for a moment longer, then gave in, the school bell ringing in the background as she did.

"Alright then," she said, quietly pleased at the thought of having screens that weren't chipped or cracked or have black spots obstructing her view occasionally. They stood and dusted themselves off, heading off towards the main block of classrooms. "What've you got this morning?" she asked.

"Free," Shawn replied with a vindictive grin. "Have fun without me." She dug her elbow into his side, but his grin only grew wider. A few seconds later, he peeled off to the right, heading who-knows-where.

If he had a free, then that meant she had English with the god-awful teacher from yesterday, the stuck-up one with perfect presentation and a class seating list attached to the roll. At the very thought of him, she began to drag her feet, arriving at class well after everyone else. He stopped her at the door, eyeing her angrily.

"Isabel, isn't it?" he asked, not sounding happy at all.

"Yes," she replied boldly, meeting his eye and refusing to back down.

"Well then Isabel, I don't know what the dress code was at your previous school, but here we don't allow casual jumpers. Your hair needs to be tied back neatly as well."

She shrugged, not really sure what he was getting at. "Okay?" she said sarcastically.

His eyes narrowed and brow furrowed unhappily. "Go and fix it please. Come back when you're done." Not needing to be told twice, Izzy turned on her heel and stalked back off down the hall, not stopping until she was outside again and well out of the teacher's sight, breathing hard. Whatever. She hadn't wanted to go to that class anyway. Quickly, she located a toilet and entered, staring at herself in the one mirror that was there. The same girl as ever stared back, eyes flashing and cheeks flushed in anger.

God, Shawn had been right about her hair. It was absolutely awful. Usually, it was dark and pin-straight, but that morning she had showered and left the house with it still dripping wet, avoiding anyone who was getting up to yell at her. The wind had obviously done a number on it as it dried. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she started patiently combing her fingers through the tangled locks, trying to bring it back to a reasonable state. By the time she was finished, it was reasonable, at least.

What now? She could go and find Shawn, she supposed, though she didn't really want to drag him into trouble when her teacher eventually reported her missing. She'd been through this charade too many times to count, and though Shawn probably wouldn't care if she got him into trouble, she'd had other friends in the past who'd been less than appreciative of the subsequent detentions. A better option would probably be to stay here or wander the grounds until the lesson was over.

Either way, it was going to be a long ninety minutes.


	3. Cracks

**Chapter 3**

"Here."

Once again, Izzy found herself faced with a sandwich at the beginning of lunchtime – a whole one this time, not just a roughly-cut half. Peanut butter oozed out the sides – not her first choice, but with a solid 24 hours and counting between meals, she wasn't in the position to be picky.

"Really?" she asked. Shawn nodded, shoving the sandwich towards her again.

"I looked pretty greedy asking for three this morning, so you'd better enjoy it."

"You didn't have to do that," she said, relenting and taking the sandwich from him, biting into it. It was heaven between bread after three missed meals.

"I'll add it to your tab," Shawn replied cheerfully, starting on his own sandwich. On her other side, Nuts grunted, having joined them for the first time that day.

"Great," she groaned, too busy eating to make much more of a joke.

"I didn't see you eat anything earlier," he commented through a mouthful of bread.

She swallowed hard, hesitant in replying. "I don't have anything," she said slowly, shrugging as if it were no big deal. "My parents aren't very good at grocery shopping."

"Oh." They fell into silence.

"So what are you guys doing after school?" Shawn asked a while later, sandwiches finished. Izzy was a little shocked at the speed his two had disappeared – she'd thought she was eating hers fast, but he ate twice as much in half the time, and still looked hungry.

"I'm grounded," Nuts said with a shrug, scratching his head.

"Izzy?"

She shrugged. "Nothing."

"Want to come over to my place?" he asked, surprising her again. She turned sharply to look at him, and he shrugged. "I'll replace those screens for you, and it'll be better than doing nothing."

A grin slowly spread over her face. "Will there be sandwiches?"

"If you want."

"Okay." She could hardly believe she was agreeing to it. Her mother would probably be furious if she found out that Izzy wasn't just wandering around aimlessly (who was she kidding – her mother would be furious if she was at home scrubbing floors and cooking a five course meal), but at the moment making her mother angry was just added fuel to the fire that the phone call from that morning had lit.

They had two lessons of maths then. Izzy sat behind the boys again, even though she knew that the two empty seats on either side of them were invitations to move up a row. She wasn't very good at maths, and watching Shawn and Nuts writing stuff down (even if she had no idea of the quality of their work) was daunting enough without them being able to see her sit there without a clue. The minutes dragged on, the teacher droning on about something she didn't understand, writing letters and numbers up on the board in seemingly random places. She couldn't complain though – every minute that ticked by was a minute closer to having to go home, no matter how long she stalled by going to Shawn's.

The bell rang, and they escaped, Nuts peeling off in the direction of the back gate, while Izzy followed Shawn towards the front of the school. "Are you sure your parents will be okay with this?" she asked, slightly nervous about it all. It had been a long time since she'd had a good enough friend to be invited anywhere.

"My parents don't live together," Shawn replied bluntly. Izzy blinked in surprise, taken aback by the sudden coldness in his words.

"Oh. Sorry." She had the feeling she should say something more. "Swap you?" she added weakly, immediately cursing herself for making a stupid joke.

A weak smile made its way back onto Shawn's face, telling her that he hadn't found the joke too offensive at least. That would be just like her, to alienate her new friend a day after meeting him. "No thanks," he said, heading for a white dual cab. The woman inside was blonde and cheerful, her face lighting up when she caught sight of them; this was someone she could get to like, Izzy thought. "Hey Nan," Shawn said as they drew up alongside the ute. "Izzy's going to come over for a bit – I told her I'd fix her phone. Is that okay?"

"Of course it is Shawn," the woman replied, waving a hand vaguely. "Hop in, kids." Shawn went straight for the passenger seat, his usual grin reinstated, leaving Izzy to hesitantly climb into the back, dumping her bag on the seat next to her.

"You're Izzy, right?" Izzy looked up to see the woman looking at her in the rear vision mirror, and nodded. "I'm Julie. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," she replied. "Thanks for letting me come over."

"Oh, it's no worries love, any time. It's always nice to meet Shawn's friends. So what do you parents do for a living, Izzy?"

There was a pause while Izzy racked her brains trying to remember her parent's latest jobs. "My dad's a mechanic, and Mum's working in the laundromat, I think," she said, looking out the window. "We just moved here."

"Well, that sounds interesting," Julie replied pleasantly as they pulled into the drive of what looked like a concrete mansion. As soon as she was out of the car, Shawn led Izzy in and past a large staircase into an equally large kitchen, lounge and dining room. Two men, one with greying hair and a glass eye, the other with a long mop of hair coloured a violent orange, sat watching some program about car racing on the other side of the room. Shawn headed straight for the kitchen, leaving Izzy standing awkwardly by the breakfast bar while he rummaged through to the cupboards and fridge for a snack, eventually pulling out a jar of Nutella and almost a full loaf of bread.

"New friend, Shawny?" the older man called out, wandering over.

"Oh yeah, Pop, this is Izzy," Shawn said by way of introduction, dropping the food onto the counter and looking for a knife. "She just moved here."

"Ah, Izzy. Short for…Isabella?" he asked, a joking grin on his face.

"Just Isabel," she corrected. She liked this family, Izzy decided then and there. They seemed to always be smiling and joking around, not yelling at each other like her own parents.

"That was my second guess," he blustered, sticking out a hand for her to shake. "Wayne Wheeler, at your service."

"Nice to meet you," she replied politely, shaking his hand.

Shawn returned then, shoving a piece of bread slathered in a generous helping of Nutella into her hands. "I'll be right back," he said, before disappearing into the backyard, his own piece of bread in his hands.

As he left, Julie entered, dropping her keys on the counter and heading to the sink, stopping short when she saw Izzy taking a bite out of the chocolate-covered bread Shawn had given her. "Oh Izzy, you sure you want to eat that?" she asked. "These boys, they always put too much of that stuff on."

"Its fine," Izzy replied after swallowing, licking Nutella off of the fingers of her right hand and sitting down in one of the stools arranged around the breakfast bar. "I haven't had Nutella in ages."

"Alright, well you just let me know if you want anything else."

Izzy nodded, and then took another bite, only to be interrupted this time by the other guy from the couch, the one with long hair and a sort of stupid-looking face. "Hi," he said with a stupid grin that matched his face. "I'm Kayne."

"Izzy," she replied, eyes following him as he went for the chocolate spread as well. Shawn reappeared then and sat down next to her, two screens in his hand. She dug her phone out of her pocket and handed it over without a word, finishing off her snack before grabbing her bag and digging through to find her shattered iPod, handing that over as well.

A few minutes later, he was done and handed them back to her. For a moment, she just stared at them, not really sure they were her things. Her phone hadn't had a clear screen since she'd bought it, and the iPod had gone for fifteen dollars on eBay with its screen already shattered – she'd never seen it without the cracks. The casings were still dented and scraped, but at least they were useable now.

"Thanks," she just about breathed, tucking the iPod into her pocket and scrolling through her phone, marvelling at how easy it was without dead pixels cluttering it up. She had two missed calls from an unknown number, one that she recognised when she checked call history. No longer interested, she dropped the phone onto the table.

"Whose number is that?" Shawn asked, leaning over to look at the screen.

Izzy reached out and turned the screen off. "No one. I'll tell you later."

He looked at her strangely for a second, and then shrugged. "Alright then." Moving on, he turned to Julie instead. "Nan, do we have any chips?"

"In the cupboard, Shawn," she replied without turning.

A moment later, Kayne threw a bag of chips in Shawn's general direction, which Izzy caught before they hit her in the face. "Nice catch!" Wayne commented, to which she grinned, handing the chips to Shawn.

"Thanks." As soon as Shawn opened the bag, she dived in, grabbing a handful before he could even think about it. She hadn't had such good food in ages – her parents always bought the cheapest stuff they could find, even if it tasted like absolute rubbish (that was assuming they went shopping at all).

"So when did you move here, Izzy?" Julie asked, glancing at her from the sink, where she was washing dishes.

"We got here on Tuesday, and I started school yesterday," Izzy answered around a mouthful of chips, grabbing another handful.

"Do you like it here?"

Izzy had to think about that for a moment. It was the same as any other place she'd been – a cheap house on the brink of falling down, the school in the district with the cheapest fees, her parents arguing every time they came near each other. But she'd been here four days and already had two friends, which was a bit of a record for her. Most people actively avoided her or barely tolerated her if they decided she wasn't too bad. She'd had friends at other schools, sure, but they'd been on and off, sometimes liking her, other times sick to death of hanging out with her. She'd only known Shawn and Nuts for two days, but already they didn't seem like those sorts of friends.

"Yeah," she said finally, smiling. "I do."

* * *

><p>It was almost dark when she finally left, waving goodbye to a full house of Wheelers and laughing when Shawn's mum warned him not to take off on his dirt bike. "You sure you don't need a lift home?" Julie asked again, a worried look on her face as Izzy shook her head.<p>

"I like walking," she replied; it wasn't a complete lie, she did like walking, just not particularly in the dark or back to her house. Shawn followed her to the front door, leaning against it as she left the house.

"So who was trying to call you earlier?" he asked, an easy grin on his face (because he _knew_ she'd be hoping he'd forget about it).

"One of my old friends," she said with a shrug, not intending to say anything more. It felt abrupt though, and before she knew it more was pouring out. "Ex-boyfriend, actually. I haven't seen him for months, told him not to call me but uh…" She trailed off as Shawn nodded.

"I'll see you on Monday?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "See you Monday."


	4. Belong

**Chapter 4**

* * *

><p>A week later, on a Saturday afternoon, she was back at Shawn's place. She'd been around three times since her first visit, preferring the Wheeler's busy house to her own. The weather had undergone several drastic changes in the week or so since she'd moved, culminating in the dry, oven-like heat that was set to continue across the weekend and well into next week, meaning her house was an oven itself and Shawn's was filled to the brim with the humming of air conditioners and fans.<p>

She'd arrived pretty early in the morning, happy to text Shawn and then sit out on the doorstep until he or someone else let her in. They'd asked her why she came so early just to sit in the quickly rising heat for a few hours, but she'd just shrugged and told them her parents were out of town or something like that and sat down on the couch to watch the Wheelers compete in a series of championships in a range of video games. Occasionally, she'd join in, but they were all experienced players and she'd barely ever touched an x-box controller, meaning that she always lost, and she was happy to lie on the other couch and watch as they completed game after game.

Currently, the game of choice was car racing. "You're not going to get away from me this time, Shawny!" Wayne crowed as he drew up behind Shawn, eyes locked on the screen.

"As if Pop!"

"Come on Dad!" Kayne just about yelled over the trash talk going on between the two players. Izzy laughed as Wayne missed a turn and went barrelling off a cliff, leaving Shawn to pull away. Over the noise of the competitive boys, she heard a phone ringing in the kitchen behind her and instinctively glanced over in time to see Julie answering it. Feeling silly, she turned back to the game, just in time to witness Shawn's win.

"My turn, my turn!" Kayne shouted, grabbing at the controller in Wayne's hands, but his father put up his hands, fending off the redhead.

"No, I think its Izzy's turn now," Wayne said, offering her the controller. She stared at it for a moment, then shook her head.

"I have no idea how to play that game."

"Come on Izzy, just one game," Shawn said. "It's not that hard."

"We'll help you," Wayne added. She couldn't help but remember the last time they'd tried to help – it had ended in him and Kayne yelling the names of different buttons at her while Shawn sat there grinning like a maniac as her character flailed uselessly, getting beaten to a pulp by a computer. Still, she was tempted to have another go. Who knew, maybe she was good at this game.

Julie saved her from making the decision, waving her hands to catch their attention. "Oi, you lot!" she called. Izzy had to work hard to rein in her laughter at the way the three snapped to attention. "Bess just called asking if we'd like to come over for a swim, so if you're coming you'd better hurry up."

They were on their feet in seconds, game forgotten. "We'll get the noodles," Wayne declared, pushing Kayne in the direction of the garage.

"I'll go get Mum!" Shawn zoomed off across the backyard towards the bungalow he shared with his mum.

Izzy stood up and shoved her hands in the pockets of her shorts. "I guess that's my cue to leave," she said, making to move towards the front door.

Julie was in her way in an instant. "Oh no, no," She sounded offended at the idea of Izzy leaving. "You can come with us if you want, Bess won't mind."

"Okay." A thought occurred to her, and she looked down at her t-shirt, denim shorts and scuffed converse. "I don't have any bathers or anything."

"Oh that's fine, we can swing by your place on the way."

"No!" Izzy replied too fast, holding up her hands. Julie looked at her oddly, and she forced herself to take a deep breath before continuing. "I mean, I don't own any?" she offered weakly by way of explanation, though she knew Julie wouldn't buy it.

The older woman looked her up and down, sizing her up. "That's okay. You're pretty tall, we'll be able to find something that fits you. Brianna!" A moment later, the blonde appeared at the door, already in a bikini and halfway through pulling a see-through top over her head.

"Yeah Mum?" she asked, finishing dressing. Julie glanced between the two girls once or twice, then nodded to herself.

"There you go, you too are about the same size. See if you can find something for Izzy to wear." Before she even knew what was happening, Izzy was being dragged upstairs by Brianna, who was gushing about bikinis and tops and god knows what else.

Shawn came back a moment later. "Has Izzy left?" he asked. Julie shook her head.

"No, she's coming with us. I sent her upstairs with Brianna to find something to wear," she said, gesturing upwards. Shawn nodded and went to move past her but she caught his shoulder. "Shawn," she said, serious now. "You keep an eye on that girl, okay? Let her come over whenever she likes. See if you can find out what's going on at home for her."

"You think something's wrong?" Shawn asked with a frown.

"No, no," Julie hurried to reassure him. "I just think she needs a good friend or two."

Ten minutes later, Izzy finally fended off a crazed Brianna, who it turned out had just been waiting for a chance to play dress ups, and escaped downstairs to the garage in a blue bikini and dress-like covering. Shawn was there, like she'd thought, watching Kayne struggling comically with an armful of pool noodles. "Who's Bess?" she asked him, drawing up beside him.

"My other aunt," he replied, eyes not leaving the show in front of them.

"Why doesn't she live here, like the rest of your family?"

"Nan and Pop had her when they were teenagers and she was adopted out."

"Oh." Pool noodles suddenly went rolling everywhere as Kayne lost control, and Shawn erupted into laughter. "Shouldn't we be helping him?" Izzy asked, struggling to contain her own laughter.

Shawn shrugged, his answer cut off by the arrival of his mum. "Oh, for shits sake Kayne," she called as she stormed up, whacking him over the back of the head and throwing pool noodles into the back of the car.

"Mum's got it," Shawn added unnecessarily as the woman in question continued to throw insults at a whining Kayne.

Noodles and inflatables gathered, they all piled into a variety of cars for the drive down the freeway. It was the furthest Izzy had been from her new home, and she couldn't help but notice the different in this part of the city – the neighbourhood they ended up in was the complete opposite of her own street. There were no cheap, ramshackle houses here, or wildly overgrown gardens. This was a place of neat hedges and sturdy houses in pristine condition. The house they parked outside was no different; an old Victorian home with a neat garden and a pool out the back. Bess, she assumed, was the woman who answered the door and stood aside to let them all in, greeting everyone as they went. Izzy was last, following Shawn and Kayne with the noodles.

"Hello Shawn…who's this?" Bess asked as they entered.

"Oh," Shawn turned, hands buried in his pockets. "This is my friend Izzy. Nan said you'd be okay with her coming too." Izzy gave her most winning smile (admittedly, not one of her strong points) as Bess looked at her curiously.

"Oh yeah – not a problem," Bess answered, a little awkwardly, so Izzy couldn't quite tell if she really was okay with it or not. She didn't get to check or anything though as Shawn grabbed her arm and steered her in the direction of the rest of the house.

Out by the pool, Shawn had more people for her to meet; namely, two kids called Oscar and Edwina, one who reminded her strongly of Kayne, and the other too busy trying to uphold general pool rules to have an actual conversation with. Most of the Wheelers were already in the water, and immediately after introducing her to Edwina, Shawn jumped in himself, sending a faceful of water towards everyone in the general vicinity.

Izzy hung back for a while, unsure about joining the mayhem, however fun it looked. Eventually, sick of the burning hot pavement against her bare feet, she sat down on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the cool water. As if he'd been waiting for that very moment, Shawn popped up next to her, long hair plastered to his head and water dripping from his nose.

"We're here to swim, you know," he said pointedly, clinging to the side of the pool as he talked.

Izzy leaned back, arms supporting her comfortably. "I'm good," she replied casually, resisting the urge to kick water in his face.

"As if, it's way too hot to not swim."

"I'll survive."

He looked at her for a second without speaking, a wicked grin that she didn't trust one bit creeping slowly across his face. "I bet you're just scared because you can't swim," he taunted.

"I'm not scared," she argued, though she couldn't deny the swimming part. She'd been swimming before, but usually she just clung to the edge or stayed where her feet could safely touch the bottom of the pool, having never been taught a single thing about swimming.

"Why don't you get in then?" he pressed, leaning back in the water as casually as ever.

Her shoulders slumped slightly. The water _did_ look nice, especially now that she was aware of the heat pressing down around her. "I possibly might not know how to swim. Maybe."

"You seriously can't swim?" he asked almost immediately, coming back to the side of the pool with a splash.

"Nope," she replied a little hotly, ready to go on the defensive if he started laughing at her. The wicked grin was all that remained though, slowly replacing her anger with nervousness.

"You'll just have to learn now then," Shawn said suddenly. Her eyes widened as she realised what he was saying, but too late; before she could do much more than let out a short, surprised scream, he had grabbed her and pulled her into the pool. Fully submerged, she flailed wildly and somehow found her way back to the surface, gripping tightly to the side of the pool coughing and spluttering and wondering how much water she'd ingested while Shawn was almost eating water himself as he laughed at her. Without even thinking about what she was doing, she went for him, catching him by surprise and managing to shove him underwater for a few seconds, immediately grabbing at the side of the pool to stop herself from sinking afterwards. He came up laughing still, apparently none the worse for wear after his dunking.

Shawn, it turned out, wasn't a very good swimming instructor; in fact, she wasn't entirely convinced he wasn't just trying to drown her, though he swore he was helping. The few times he coaxed her away from the edge, she floundered immediately and found herself struggling back to where swimming made sense before she ended up with a mouthful of disgusting water again. Eventually, she point blank refused to leave the safety of the side again, and he resorted to bombing over her head into the water, so that she copped the worst of the splashback.

Once she saw people leaving the pool for the shaded table outside, Izzy decided she'd had enough and joined them, just in time for lunch. Before long, all of the Wheelers were there, always willing to devour free food, and it was gone in what felt like seconds. Izzy didn't know if she'd ever been so full, or if she'd ever appreciated the feeling so much before. She wasn't sure she'd ever felt so much a part of something as she did now either, surrounded by Wheelers and Brights, the sole Walker in the room. She wasn't sure if they all accepted her (she had a feeling that Shawn's mum wasn't completely sold on her presence here, but she was yet to say anything particularly hurtful), but she knew that she never wanted to leave.

"You coming over tomorrow?" Shawn asked her as they left the freeway.

"Of course," she replied, beaming.

* * *

><p>Her smile stayed plastered on her face the entire way home, only fading as she walked up the cracked concrete path to her front door, trying to enter as quietly as she could. All her care was useless, it turned out, as both parents were slumped on the couch just to the left of the door, eyes glued on the TV and a drink in hand each. For a moment, she thought they were in such a drunken stupor that she could just slip past and into her room without trouble, but as she crossed in front of the TV screen they stirred, eyes moving to track her.<p>

"Where have you been?" her mother asked in a voice that warned against argument.

"At a friend's place," Izzy replied, sidling towards her room. "I told you I was spending the day there yesterday. And I'm going back tomorrow."

A frown creased her mother's face, pulling the lines already there deeper in. "Why can I smell chlorine?"

Secretly, Izzy was impressed the woman even knew what chlorine was, let alone what it smelt like. "They have a pool, so we went swimming."

"Who's this friend of yours?" her father put in, waving his drink around in an attempt to gesture something.

"Just a friend from school." She shrugged, trying to play it off like it was no big deal. They were about to start yelling, she knew. The heat that was trapped in the house was pressing in, like two big hands sitting on her shoulders and trying to sink her into the floor. She could feel sweat gathering on her brow and making her hands clammy – not that she wasn't already soaked in sweat from the walk home in an evening that showed no signs of cooling past barely tolerable.

"Does this friend have a name?"

She swallowed hard. "Shawn Wheeler."

"Shawn?" In her head, she was repeating a long list of swear words over and over as her father rose and stumbled towards her. "So not only have you been wandering around town all day and night, you've been sneaking around with some boy too?"

"We haven't been 'sneaking around'," she protested. "I've just been over to his house a couple of times. His family is really nice."

"Oh, is it?" She nodded. "So you'd rather spend time with that family than your own?" In her head, she was nodding eagerly, but to his face, she just shrugged. He was almost beet red by now, voice rising to a shout.

"After everything we do for you, you'd still rather be a part of some other family. I don't know why we even bother!"

"Oh lay off Dave," her mother slurred. "She's allowed to have friends."

Izzy stared at the worn-looking woman on the couch. It was rare that anyone took her side in these arguments (and it was never her father). Gratitude for her mother rushed through her as her father rounded on the woman, leaving Izzy alone. "Shut up, Anne!" he roared. "I don't need your opinion on everything I do!"

As the argument between them built, Izzy slipped away to her room, heaving a sigh of relief as she shut the door and no one followed her, both of them completely distracted. They were already too drunk to remember she existed unless she was there in the room. They'd barely remember this argument in the morning.

Safe, she took out her iPod and collapsed on her bed, plugging in her headphones and blasting music. With the yelling from the next room over drowned out, she found her eyes drifting closed after just a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, the activity of the day catching up with her.

_I really need to get some new music,_ she thought to herself as a song she'd listened to a hundred times started playing.


	5. The Angels

Early Sunday morning, she reached the Wheeler's place and texted Shawn, only for him to appear a moment later and lead her around the side of the house to the bungalow. "Mum's not here," he explained, collapsing on his bed next to an open laptop and half-finished packet of chips.

"So you stayed up all night eating chips and playing games?" she asked, noticing several other empty food packets scattered around the messy room. The draws on his dresser sat half open, clothes were deposited all over the room, and the bed was unmade and rumpled. Even the stereo in the corner managed to be in a state of disarray, surrounded by CDs and their covers.

"I would've anyway; it's the weekend." She grinned at the defensive note in his voice, moving over to the stereo and picking up a CD cover. "You like The Angels?" he asked.

Izzy shrugged, putting down the cover. "Never heard of them," she said truthfully. She glanced at him, and then burst out laughing at the mixture of hurt and disbelief reflected there. "Is that bad?" she asked between giggles, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Yes." There was no argument to be had on the topic, as he reached over to the stereo and located the Angels CD. A minute later, the opening chords of a song entitled _Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again _started playing, blessedly quieter than the volume she usually ended up listening to music at. She liked it from the moment she heard it, though the swearing in the middle made her raise an eyebrow.

"Hey Shawn?" she asked as the song ended and another started.

"Yeah?"

She dug her iPod out of her pocket, holding it up so that he could see it. "Do you think you could give me some new music?"

Immediately, the iPod disappeared from her fingers. "Sure," he said, already plugging it into the laptop next to him.

"Thanks." There was silence, broken only by the busy hum of the laptop and the music still quietly pouring from the stereo. "So where's your mum at?" she asked finally, pulling her legs up and crossing them underneath her.

He shrugged, eyes fixed on the screen in front of him. "Dunno. She went out last night and didn't come back."

"Oh." Another pause, as she searched for a change of topic, sensing Shawn's discomfort. For the first time that morning, she became aware of how hungry she was, like she'd just disintegrate into nothing if she didn't eat soon (she hadn't had anything since leaving the Wheeler's place yesterday evening, as usual). "Got any food?" she asked. He stared at her for a moment, then pointed to the bag of chips next to her and she rolled her eyes. "Food that isn't total junk. How can you even eat chips this early in the morning?"

"How can you not?" he asked, setting the iPod and computer to the side and standing. "There's probably something in the fridge." Izzy followed him out into the small kitchen of the bungalow, leaning against the bench as he raided the fridge for something more suited to breakfast than chips. "What exactly do you want?" he asked, still staring into the fridge.

"Do you even know what breakfast is?" she responded, looking around. "What about cereal and stuff like that?"

"I know what breakfast is, Izzy," he insisted, closing the fridge and opening one of the cupboards, pulling out a box of fruit loops.

"Sure you do." While he searched for a bowl, she opened the box, stealing a small handful before he could even pour out a serving. "Okay, you know what breakfast is," she admitted, her first handful of the cereal filling her mouth with delicious flavours.

"Told you," he replied smugly, throwing a few in his mouth and carrying the bowl back to his room. "Your iPod's done." The device came flying at her as she sat down again, landing neatly in her lap. She shoved it in her pocket without a second thought, going for the cereal again.

"Thanks," she said between fruit loops, chewing and swallowing before voicing her next question. "Ready for school tomorrow?"

"What do you think," he replied dryly, bringing a smile to her face. "Why do you always sit alone?" he asked suddenly, curious eyes fixed on her.

"What do you mean?" she asked back, feigning ignorance.

"In maths, you always sit alone, even though you could move up and sit with me and Nuts."

"Could I?" she responded innocently, avoiding his eyes.

"Well, yeah."

"Oh."

"What the hell is going on here?" That was Shawn's mum Amber, who was standing at the door looking murderous (which really wasn't much different from how she usually looked). Not to be intimidated, Izzy shoved another few fruit loops in her mouth, leaving the talking to Shawn.

"Izzy got here early, so I let her in," Shawn explained patiently. "Where have you been?"

"None of your business," she replied stiffly, going from attack to defence in a matter of seconds. "Keep that music down." With that, she disappeared.

"What was that about?" Izzy asked in a low voice so that Amber wouldn't hear her.

Shawn shrugged, pouring the last of the cereal into his hand. "No idea," he said, before shoving it all in his mouth.

* * *

><p>Standing outside her maths classroom on Monday afternoon, Izzy forced herself to stop and take a deep breath before walking in. She wasn't exactly sure why she was so nervous – of all the people, why would her friends mock her on a simple lack of knowledge (it had happened before of course, but these friends were better than they had ever been, and she was supposed to be the tough, devil-may-care sort of person, not some whiny little kid that bursts into tears at the first sign of criticism)?<p>

She headed for her usual spot, though this time she stopped a row short of her seat and dropped into the one next to Shawn. He gave her a glance but not much more, as the class was beginning. There was no long and confusing tangent about equations for her to barely understand today, just a page number for her textbook. Flicking through, she found the page, stared at the maths (which may well have been hieroglyphics, for all she knew), and knew immediately that she wouldn't be able to complete them. Beside her, Shawn looked bored and was working slowly, but at least looked like he knew what he was doing. On his other side, Nuts was the same. Deliberately writing slowly, she copied out several sums, trying to look like she was on task, and then sat and stared at the words on the page, rolling her pen between her fingers as she tried to break down and decipher the sums as a particularly helpful teacher had taught her to in the past (in fact, the only decent teacher she'd ever had).

The scratching of pen on paper next to her paused. "You're supposed to answer them too, you know," Shawn informed her in a low voice, conversation disguised by several other quiet chats that had sprung up around the room.

"I know," she replied curtly.

"Were you planning on actually doing it?"

She shrugged. "If I feel like it."

"No one feels like doing maths, Izzy."

"Guess it won't get done then."

"Do you ever feel like doing maths?"

She snorted quietly, letting out a derisive laugh. "As if."

Without warning, he reached out and snatched up her book, sliding it across the desk and out of her reach. She lunged for it as it went, but too late – her fingers fell short and there would be no second attempt as Shawn held her back easily with one arm, the other flicking back through the few pages she'd filled with unanswered or incorrect sums over the past couple of weeks. When he was done, he slid the book back across the table to her.

"Are you actually that lazy, or do you not know how to do maths?" he asked after a long moment, attention back on his own work.

"I can do maths," she muttered sullenly. "Just not _this _maths."

"What, your old school didn't do this?"

"Every school does stuff in a different order. It's impossible to keep up. I've been to four schools this year, and I haven't learnt a single thing from any of them." Exasperated, she closed her textbook and leaned back in her seat, eyes wandering to the clock. Five minutes left of hell, and then lunch, finally. "Am I ever going to need this in real life? It looks too complicated to be useful."

"Probably not." Shawn admitted. "But you do have to know it to pass." He gave her a pointed look, and then returned to his studies. She ignored his not-so-subtle hints to get to work, watching him come up with seemingly random answers to question after question. In turn, he ignored her as she watched, forging onward through the work until the bell finally tolled to signal lunch.

"So you really don't care about failing?" Nuts asked as they escaped the classroom, joining the conversation. Izzy glanced at him with some surprise; it was a rare occasion that he actually participated in conversations, usually preferring to listen silently.

"I _care_ about failing," she sighed, pulling her bag a little further onto her shoulders. "I just don't know enough to pass."

"Why do your parents move around so much anyway?" Shawn appeared on her other side, pushing his way through the crowd until they reached clearer ground.

She shrugged. "They lose their jobs, someone files a complaint with the police, teachers try to contact them, or family services pays a visit. Take your pick."

"Have you ever been picked up by the police?" Izzy stopped in her tracks, stared at Shawn for a moment, and then continued on like nothing had happened. A grin on his face, he hurried after her. "What'd you get picked up for?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she replied, lip curling. "Have you ever been caught somewhere you shouldn't be on your dirt bike?"

"Maybe."

"He has," Nuts put in, shrugging when Shawn cast a hurt look his way.

"Thought so," Izzy finished with a smirk as they sat down, knowing nothing further would be said on the topic. She made it all the way through lunch in fact, before one of those two topics was brought back around by the bell.

With a heavy sigh, she picked up her bag and turned towards the worst class of the day. "I really don't want to go," she said to the knowing smirk on Shawn's face.

"Don't go then," was his reply.

"What, you mean skip class?" It was an attractive prospect, so long as her parents didn't find out (but wasn't that the opinion of every kid that skipped class?).

Shawn nodded. "I'll teach you how to do that maths," he said, overly cheerful at the idea of more maths. She only needed a minute to think about it before accepting his offer with a shrug and a nod, following the boys out of the school (technically, they weren't supposed to leave the campus until school ended, but she had never been one for rules anyway). They walked a good fifteen minutes before they reached a small park that was hidden away down a side street and surrounded by high fences – the ideal place to loiter in school uniform without meeting resistance from one busybody or another.

On a picnic table under a big old gum tree, Shawn spread out his maths books, apparently serious about the whole teaching thing. Izzy sat down beside him with her feet tucked up under her, leaning forward to see better, while Nuts took up residence on the other side of the table, throwing out his opinion wherever he thought Shawn's explanations were lacking. Time passed quickly, and to Izzy's surprise, she found that she was kind of getting it despite lacking some background knowledge – some things she was doing just because she was told that that was how they worked, not because they made any logical sense. It was pretty clear at those moments that none of them were particularly gifted at maths, seeing as none of them properly understood it (not that the maths teacher would care. All they were concerned with was correct answers).

Eventually, 3 o'clock rolled around, and Shawn had to walk back to school to be picked up, as did Nuts. As they left the park, Izzy received a text from her mother's phone telling her to head straight home and so regretfully, she told the boys she'd see them in the morning and turned in the direction of May Crescent, already dragging her feet.

Her mother was watching TV when she got home. Judging by the absence of the car from the drive, Izzy guessed that her dad was out somewhere. As soon as she shut the door, the TV muted and her mother sat up straighter, indicating that she wanted to talk. "Isabel," she said before Izzy could ignore her and escape to her room.

"What?" Izzy sighed in response, turning towards the other side of the dark room, where their single faded blue couch sat.

"This boyfriend of yours, Seb or whatever-"

"Shawn," she corrected. "And he's not my boyfriend."

"Whatever." The woman took a deep breath and a swig of the drink in her hand to calm herself. "Don't mention him to your father again, okay?"

"You can't stop me from being friends with him Mum," Izzy started defensively, but her mother waved her free hand in the air almost instantly, cutting her off.

"I'm not saying you can't be friends. Just don't tell your father." Izzy blinked in surprise, staring. This wasn't the mother she usually knew. The attitude and general grumpiness was gone, replaced by weariness, like she was sick of something. Her life going around in circles, maybe. God knows Izzy was sick of the circles. The woman on the couch looked different, and not just in the way she spoke, or the way she carried herself…there were deep shadows on her face, lines that her daughter had never noticed before. Izzy couldn't quite put her finger on it, not in the half-light of this room without windows.

That was probably it. Just a trick of the light. Nothing more.

"Alright," Izzy said with a shrug, heading into her room and shutting the door firmly behind her. The TV sound came back on a moment later, leaking through the thin wall between it and her room. She dropped her bag on her bed and went over to the window, cracking it open enough for her to lean out. There was no flyscreen or anything to keep bugs out, but it was a small sacrifice for this sort of freedom – without a screen or anything, it was the sort of window you could climb out of and escape at any time, provided you didn't tip off anyone who would stop you with its screeching and shuddering as you opened it (vaguely, she wondered if her mother thought she was climbing out it right now. Or if she even cared. It wasn't like she'd come to investigate).

She breathed deeply, filling her lungs and her room with crisp afternoon air. Suddenly, she was reminded of an old farmhouse she'd lived in for three months almost exactly a year ago. There, on an afternoon like this one, the scent of freshly harvested crops and silos full of grain would hang in the air, making you breathe deeply and savour every lungful. It was a place she could easily miss, with kilometres of empty fields and the neighbours too far away to even see.

There had still been the incessant fighting there though, the shouting and slamming of doors and being snapped at by parents at the end of their tether. She hadn't had friends there, either; there was no house full of Wheelers to escape to more often than she came home, or Shawn to give her music and try to teach her maths.

She pulled away from the window. No, this was definitely one of the better places she'd ever lived, and she wouldn't go back to any of her old lives for anything.


	6. Thunder And Lightning

Friday was a quiet day, especially as she walked home, the day just a little too cold for anyone to be out and about. There was a chill to the air, and a biting wind that worked its way through any clothing, sent by the heavy storm clouds that had loomed all day and now hung ominously overhead. The only noise Izzy could her was the muted clap of her feet against the cracked sidewalk as she trudged ever onwards toward home, accompanied occasionally by the brief echo of thunder rippling across the sky. Her school bag dragged at her shoulders, threatening to sink her deep into the ground, and air thick with the promise of rain fought its way in and out of her lungs, heavy like soup.

Izzy had been dawdling again, not really caring about being soaked by the oncoming storm. Shawn had gone to his dad's place for the afternoon, and despite an open invitation to come round to the Wheeler's whenever she liked, she didn't want to encroach on the place without him. They wouldn't mind her presence there at all she knew – in fact, they'd probably just install her as a temporary substitute for Shawn in his absence – but still, she chose to walk the streets and wait for evening to roll around.

Lost in thought, she turned onto a long street with a ditch on one side where she suspected a creek had once run. Thick slabs of concrete made the driveways that stretched across it, each with a wide hole punched through the bottom for water to run through. She found herself wondering if anyone ever drove off the sides of such stupid driveways. The sides and bottom of the ditch were covered in long grass reminiscent of reeds but more likely to be harbouring snakes than ducks. This was Australia, after all.

She almost missed the whimpering off to her left….almost. The sound lifted her from her reverie, out of time with the monotonous rhythm of her footsteps and emanating from the long grass of the ditch. Turning, she peered through the yellowing plants to try and find the source of the noise, spotting something black and moving in the midst of all that grass. Her first thought was a snake, and she almost walked away; but no, on second thoughts, it didn't look anything like a snake.

Hoping she wasn't about to be bitten by anything unpleasant, she slipped and slid down into the bottom of the ditch, pushing through the grass. There, right in front of her, was a pitch black puppy. It was wriggling around madly and making all kinds of pitiful noises, trying to free itself of the brick that was attached to its leg by a length of rope. Crouching, she rocked back on her heels, wondering what to do about it – she couldn't just leave it here to struggle and cry and eventually starve. If she freed it though, who knew where it would go or what sort of trouble it would get into. People didn't like stray dogs, anyone could tell you that. She couldn't take it with her either, however much she wanted to.

She'd always wanted a dog too. And she still did, no matter how long ago she'd told herself she was giving up on that dream.

Slowly, she reached out towards the puppy. Rather than snapping and trying to defend itself like she'd expected, it cowered at the sight of her hand, forgetting its struggle with the tight rope. She could _see_ it waiting to be hit or kicked for nothing at all, expecting pain at the very sight of her. Softly, she stroked its head, smoothing down matted fur and big, silky ears. The puppy whimpered again, but this time the sound didn't sound quite as pitiful.

Crooning softly, she moved to the rope, struggling with the tight knots around the dog's leg, trying to loosen them enough for slip out the trapped paw. As she worked, a single, huge raindrop splashed onto the back of her head, soaking through her hair to her scalp. More followed, slowly at first and then faster and faster, building up into a steady downpour as the storm finally broke. "Dammit," she swore under her breath as her fingers slipped from the knot again. By the time she got the rope undone, she was soaked through and the dog wasn't faring much better, though she had managed to protect him from the worst of it.

Feeling that it was free, the little black puppy got to its feet, limping a step or two and favouring the foot that the brick had been tied to. She reached out to it again and this time, it came towards her warily, checking that she wasn't a threat before pressing up against her, using her to stay out of the rain.

_What now?_ she asked herself silently, stroking the puppy again. She loathed the idea of leaving it here to fend for itself – sure, she'd freed him, but he couldn't walk and it was raining. Really, he wouldn't be much better off than he was tied to that brick. She wasn't sure what her parents would do if she brought him home. Probably shoot it or something.

In her pocket, her phone buzzed. Crouching over it to protect it from the rain, she pulled it out and unlocked it. It was a text from Shawn, something about video games. Seeing his name on the screen gave her an idea. He wouldn't mind, she was sure. Tucking the phone back into her pocket, she reached down and picked up the shivering puppy, tucking him into the front of her hoodie and zipping it up until just his head was visible. With one hand, she flipped the hood up to cover her head, and then pulled herself up out of the ditch and turned back the way she'd come, walking at double the speed she had previously been travelling at. This time, she felt light on her feet, the weight of her bag and tiredness in her legs forgotten in light of her new-found purpose.

She reached the Wheelers in record time, drenched to the skin and shivering. When she knocked on the door, she could hear a brief shouting match about who would answer, and then Wayne appeared in front of her, warm light spilling from the house behind him. "Isabel!" he greeted her, cracking a smile. "What brings you here so late?"

It occurred to her suddenly that it was well past six and the sun was going down behind the thick bank of clouds, not that the Wheelers would mind. "Izzy," she corrected, returning his smile. "Is Shawn here?"

"You know, I think Amber just left to get him…"

"Babe, who is it? I-" Julie came out from the kitchen, her sentence falling away as she answered her own question. "Izzy! Shawn will be here soon; come inside." Unable to get a word in edgewise, she was swept inside, away from the downpour and into the entrance of the Wheeler's large home. For a minute, she stood there dripping onto the tiles while Julie talked about blankets and dry clothes and such; then, the puppy started wriggling out of her jumper, trying desperately to get to the floor.

"What is that?" Wayne asked as she unzipped her hoodie, freeing the dog.

"Is that a dog?" Julie added. "Where did you get that?"

Attracted by the noise, Brianna appeared at the top of the stairs, watching for a moment in confusion and then barrelling down with a squeal of delight. "Izzy! It's so cute!" she practically screeched, her voice going up a few octaves as she reached for the dog.

Alarmed by Brianna's sudden arrival, Izzy took a step back out of reach, trying to calm the now frantic dog. "He's scared of people," she explained to them, holding him as tightly as she dared. "I found him in a ditch, tied to a brick."

"Oh, poor puppy," Julie said, edging closer. The dog froze, watching her warily, but after a moment accepted her into his trust, letting her touch his head. "Who would do something like that to you?"

"He's so cute though," Brianna gushed, blessedly quieter than before. She approached too, copying Julie's actions, and winning the dog's trust. For a moment, Izzy wondered if she'd been wrong about this puppy having trust issues – but then Wayne approached and it cowered in her arms, retreating as far as it could.

"He's a bit of a ladies man, I guess," Wayne joked as he retreated.

The sound of the door opening made all of them turn around, just as Amber and Shawn hurried in out of the rain. "Izzy!" Shawn said, grinning wildly. "Hey."

"What the fuck is that?" Amber said bluntly, looking from the dog, to Izzy, to each of her family and back again.

"Swear jar," Julie replied automatically.

"It's a dog, Amber," Brianna added, rolling her eyes.

"Where did you get a dog?" Shawn asked, dropping his school bag and stepping closer, watching the animal warily. It didn't react like it had when Wayne approached though, just eyed him for a moment and then decided he wasn't a threat.

"Someone dumped him on the side of the road," Izzy explained patiently, eyes on the dog as it sniffed Shawn's sleeve.

"And you brought it here?" Amber said, not bothering to hide the disdain in her voice.

Izzy hesitated with an answer, arms tightening around the puppy. Whining at the sudden restrictions, it wriggled and squirmed in protest until Shawn saved it, prying it from her arms. Her eyes followed it, watching it settle in Shawn's arms instead. "I didn't know where else to go," she admitted boldly, not letting herself falter.

"Uh, how about home? To your own house?"

"Amber, stop it," Julie intervened, sending her daughter a meaningful look. Amber just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, the very image of defiance. "Izzy's welcome here any time she wants." For the first time, the blonde woman fully noticed Izzy shivering, still completely drenched. "Oh, look at you love. Brianna, take Izzy and find some dry clothes. Do your parents know you're here?"

Not for the first time, Izzy was stunned at Julie's ability to take complete control of a situation and put everyone at ease, no matter the circumstances. In one blow, she'd subdued Amber, set Brianna to a task, and dealt with Izzy's own dismal state. "No," she replied eventually.

"Have you even been home yet?" Shawn asked, nodding towards the bag on her back.

She shifted uncomfortably, moving her weight from one foot to another. "No," she admitted.

"But school finished four hours ago."

She shrugged in answer. "Okay well, call your parents and tell them you're staying here tonight," Julie intervened. "Shawn, bring that puppy here." With that, they disappeared out towards the kitchen and Brianna was dragging her upstairs, apparently unconcerned about getting water or mud on the carpet. There, she was pointed towards a bathroom, and handed towels and clean clothes a moment later. The shower was the best she'd ever had – the pipes didn't rattle, tiles weren't falling off the walls, the shower head worked, and there was actual hot water (all problems present in previous houses she'd lived in). For a while, she just stood there, letting the water pressure pummel heat back into her body and loosen her muscles, which were tight from all the walking and shivering she'd done.

When she finally stepped out and wrapped herself in a towel, she felt better than she had in months. Drying herself off, she dressed in the clothes Brianna had given her – track pants and a t-shirt that hung off her thin frame but was comfortable at least. Her school bag had disappeared from outside the bathroom, a mystery that was solved as soon as she came downstairs and saw it sitting next to Shawn's by the front door.

A variety of noises spilled from the kitchen/living room but she didn't head that way quite yet, instead sitting down on the second-last step of the staircase and pulling her phone out of the pocket of her pants, scrolling through for her mother's number. She picked up on the fourth ring, the background noise of the TV and her father's voice feeding through the line instantly. "Where are you?" came the sharp voice that she knew well, the one that had earlier in the week softened and shaped almost into one of kindness as it warned her against mentioning Shawn to her father again.

"At Shawn's place," she said, pushing any thoughts on her parents becoming decent human beings to the back of her mind, to wonder on later. "I got caught out in the storm and his Nan said I can stay the night. That's fine right? It's Friday anyway."

"Yeah yeah, whatever." Had they been drinking or something? Her mother wasn't usually this uncaring about anything she did.

"Okay," Izzy said, leaving an awkward pause where her mother didn't say anything before closing the conversation. "Bye." The line went dead a second after that, leaving her with a silent phone pressed to her ear. Shaking away any bad feelings, she shoved the phone back into her pocket and headed towards the cheery atmosphere of the rear of the house.

Most of the family was gathered in the TV area, one eye on the puppy and the other on some show about extreme sports. The dog itself was on the floor squirming around in an old towel at Shawn's feet, the boy seated at the foot of the couch. She joined him on the floor, watching the puppy stage an escape and ignoring the howls of disappointment as another round of thunder shook the sky and the TV reception became spotty.

"I thought dogs were scared of storms," Izzy commented, as the puppy proceeded to ignore the thunder completely.

"I think this one likes them," was Shawn's reply.

"What do we do with him?" she asked quietly.

"You aren't going to keep him?" Shawn sounded surprised, and looked even more when she shook her head.

"I can't," she explained. "My dad would go nuts if I brought a dog home. He'd be dead within the hour," she added sullenly, staring hard at the black ball of fur at their feet.

"Hey Nan," Shawn began, turning around. "Can we keep the dog here?"

"I'd love to Shawn, but Kayne's allergic." She pointed down the couch to her son, and then went back to watching the show.

"What if he stayed in the bungalow?"

"No." Amber's voice left no room for argument, not that that would stop Shawn.

"But it'd only be for a few days, just until we find him a home." Izzy glanced at Shawn, mildly surprised. Deep down, she knew neither of them would be able to keep the dog. She hadn't expected to have to get rid of it immediately though.

"Come on Amber," Brianna whined, apparently on their side.

Amber sighed heavily. "Fine," she agreed reluctantly. "But it stays in your-" She poked a finger at Shawn, "-room, and I don't want anything to do with it."

With a satisfied smirk on his face, Shawn turned back to the TV. Finally free from the towel, the dog stood and shook itself violently, before looking around with big, worried eyes. Izzy leaned forward, holding a hand out for it to sniff and petting it when it shoved its head up under her fingers. "What are you going to call it?" Shawn asked in a low voice, leaning across her to scratch behind its ears.

The question made her sink back against the couch, deliberating. She hadn't even thought about naming the dog until now. Staring at the dog, she willed an apt name to come to mind, but came up empty. There were generic, over-used names like Blackie of course, but he didn't deserve a stupid name like that. No dog deserved to be a Blackie, or a Fluffy, or god help them, a Lucky.

"We should call him Spot," Shawn suggested cheekily, a shit-eating grin on his face, She gave him a hard shove, knocking him sideways, but he just bounced right back with a widening grin (if that was even possible).

"He doesn't have any spots, idiot," she replied. A flash of lightning lit up the rain outside, followed a moment later by a rumble of thunder that sent the puppy cowering into her leg. As her hand fell to comfort him, the name came to her, riding on the trembling air and falling rain.

"We'll call him Storm."


End file.
